


Five Minutes After the Metacrisis

by jer832



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Fluff and Crack, Gen, Humor, Missing Scene, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 23:45:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jer832/pseuds/jer832
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donna and the Metacrisis Doctor have to repair the TARDIS then go back and rescue the others, defeat Davros and the Daleks, and save Reality.  But first...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Minutes After the Metacrisis

 

 

 

The new Doctor took the TARDIS out of the fiery destruction Davros had dropped her into, and into the safety of the vortex. As he hurriedly set the time ship's self-repair procedures he gave Donna a brief explanation of what had happened and then thanked her for giving his hand a hand. She didn't laugh at that, let alone roll her eyes and make a typical Donna Noble wisecrack; she didn't ask any of the clever perceptive sort of questions he'd become used to. Donna just kept her eyes glued to his, silent and unblinking. Giving in to one eye-roll, he made a quick run to the wardrobe, returning in his blue suit and a fresh burgundy jumper.  
  
Now that Donna would look him in the eyes because she wanted to, not because she daren't look anyplace else that happened to be lower, he repeated what he'd told her before about the metacrisis. He smirked just a bit as he asked if she'd gotten it this time or if he should wrap himself in a greatcoat and scarf as well and have another go at enlightenment. Donna rolled her eyes, slugged him in the upper arm, and told him he wasn't as impressive as he thought she thought he was, and she was more than fine with his fashion choice as long as he could save the universe in blue and burgundy.  
  
With a grin, the new Doctor dumped a bunch of junk on the control room floor and began to construct something that looked like an old B-movie ray gun.  
  
"What is this thing?" Donna asked.  
  
“It’s our only hope,” the new Doctor said, “a Z-Neutrino biological inversion catalyzer.”  
  
“Of course it is," Donna nodded. "Speaking of things, how does this thing between you and the Doctor—“  
  
“I am the Doctor, Donna.”  
  
"Yeah, you keep saying that. But, I mean before, when he—“  
  
“No!  No ‘ ** _he’,_** Donna Noble ** _,_** no no! ** _I_**  am the Doctor, same as always, the one and… “ The new Doctor rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s very complicated, Donna, but I  **am**  the Doctor. I have over nine hundred years of Doctor memories. I have the same handsome face and great hair, same freckles in exactly the same places, same intuitive connection to the TARDIS, same giant intelligence—“  
  
“Same giant ego, same skinny body.”  
  
“Oi! Who’s making the list here, Donna Noble? The only difference between me and him—“  
  
“ah- _HAH_!” Donna gave him—whoever him was—a significant look.  
  
The new Doctor huffed in Doctorly frustration and started again.  
  
“As I told you already, the only difference between this me and that me—and I did say it’s very complicated, but I am a complicated event in time and space—“  
  
“You've said that, too.”  
  
“—is this only one heart thing.” He scratched the back of his head. “That’s really gonna take some getting used to."    
  
"And you said you can't regenerate."  
  
"Well, pretty sure I can’t.  _Bugger_ that!”   He stared at Donna with a mix of consternation and wonder. “Yep.” (The new Doctor popped the  _p_ , just like the not-new one.) “I  _definitely_  have your proclivity for idiomatic vulgarity.”  
  
Donna started to open her mouth, but the Doctor put up a hand to stop her.  
  
“Everything feels so different inside me looking out, Donna,” the Doctor confided, “so… _more_. You humans are so unfinished and slap-dash in here.” He tapped his forehead.  
  
“Wait! What  _IS_  all this in here, Donna?”  
  
The Doctor furrowed his brow and pursed his lips and puttered around inside his head.  Then he took a long trek through his endocrine system, shuddered, and thrumped himself upside the head.  
  
" **Bloody hell**!"  
  
The Doctor glared at the human. “I blame **ALL**  of  **THAT** on you, Donna Noble," he said, gesturing in the general areas of his head and his nether regions.  
  
Donna bit back a laugh. “Anything else, spaceman?”  
  
“Yes, there is!” he snapped, “In fact I--   ** _Spaceman_**?"   The Doctor squealed. “You  _DO_  believe that I am  _oh Donna_  I was so and you don’t know how much I but you  _really_ you do oh—“  
  
Donna broke into the oncoming gibbering rant. “You lied to me, Doctor!”  
  
“What?” the Doctor asked, totally gobsmacked for once in his long... well, short.. no, long life.  
  
“No!” he stormed, “I would never!”  
  
Then, in a small voice, “When?”   
  
“After we left the Ood,” Donna replied coldly.  
  
“What are you referring to?  Exactly?”  
  
“You gave me a whole lecture—“  
  
“Ah. Donna, I think now is really not the time.”  
  
“—about how it’s a different morality out here and I shouldn’t be thrown by the physical characteristics of alien males and females and hermaphrodites.”  
  
“Not hermaphrodites, Donna. Individuals whose genders are functionally defined through the socio-political roles they assume within the paradigm of an optimally efficient group dynamic.”  
  
Donna waved her hand dismissively. “Whatever.”  
  
Something, and the Doctor hoped it wasn’t the TARDIS, rather exploded beneath the floor. “Donna I really think this isn’t the—“  
  
“Doctor, you said that just because an alien looks like a human and functions as a male, it doesn’t mean he’s built like a man  ** _down there_**.“ Donna Noble’s pointedly location-specific finger-pointing gave extra emphasis to those last two words. “The body parts of most aliens, you said, might be somewhat similar but more likely are totally different. ‘Earth people’ –and I am quoting you here, Doctor— ‘are as alien to me, Donna Noble, as I am to you.’ End quote.”  
  
Donna sniffed.  
  
“Well, I’ve seen you, Sunshine.  And I don’t care if you put it into a socio-political functionally defined group dynamic or in Speedos. You look exactly like a man.”  
  
“Ah.”  
  
Donna bit back a smile as the Doctor played with the back of his neck-- that thing he always did when he was fabricating, blustering his way out of something, or just plain clueless and his mouth had to buy some time while his brain figured out his next move. Though maybe she should give him the benefit of the doubt, considering he’d been a hand in a jar just ten minutes ago.    
  
"Well, I didn’t lie, as such,” he said, beginning to rock on the balls of his feet. “I stated a fact, well, a tautology actually, that may—just may, mind you—have induced a psychological inclination on your part to accept an implication that you yourself supplied. And then you—yes  _you,_  Earth girl—leaped!…bounded!… flew!… perhaps not flew, you don’t fly, well you have flown in the TARDIS of course, although in point of fact the TARDIS disappears here and reappears there, except there was that time I chased you down the M5 but you were in a taxi, not flying in—“  
  
“Doctor?”  
  
“Then you inferred from the assumed implication – an assumplication, as it were—“  
  
“Doctor,” Donna tried again, “you’re blathering.”  
  
“—all on your own.” The Doctor kept on talking, faster and faster, not letting Donna get a word in. “You are very quick and very brilliant, Donna Noble, but sometimes you do draw conclusions—“  
  
“That you want me to,” Donna hollered, getting up into the Doctor's face.  
  
“Yes,” he admitted, finally deflated, “that I want you to.  I am so sorry, Donna; I didn’t want to lie to you. It’s hard to talk about these things, especially now that I’m the only one left.” He sighed. "You are my best friend, Donna Noble, and I don’t ever want you to think I’ve kept something from you, or said or done anything you believe is wrong.”  
  
“You’ll tell me the truth, Martian?”  
  
“We-ell….Would you accept that it was HE who lied to you and I never would?”  
  
“Only if you’ll accept that you’re not the Doctor.”  
  
Donna's poor Doctor suddenly looked like a Time Lord who’d just lost… well, everything. Donna wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “Of course you’re the Doctor, the one and only,” she said tenderly. “You should know by now that there’s nothing you can’t tell me. You and I, Doctor, we’re  _molto bene_.”  
  
The Doctor gave his Donna a little smile, a little nod. “ _Molto bene_.”  
  
“ _Allons-y_ , Doctor.”  
  
“Ah well.” The Doctor raked his hands through his hair, pulled at his jumper, unbuttoned his jacket, and searched through his pockets for eye glasses that weren't there. He nodded in acceptance of what wasn't, and what was. Most of what was, was his Donna still believing in him.  He smiled. “Gallifreyans, Donna Noble, like humans, have two sexes. The female of my species carried her sex organs in her nostrils.”  
  
“Oh my god, Doctor! Really?”  
  
“No.” The Doctor grinned. Donna slugged him.  
  
"There always are functionally and biologically necessary conditions for intercourse and reproduction. As for the means whereby the biological reproductive directive is executed…”  
  
Donna gave the Doctor a lost look.  
  
“Tab A into slot B.“  
  
She nodded. “Got it.”  
  
“While physiologically similar species usually employ similar enough positions to, ah, get the job done, secondary sexual characteristics—be they purely ornamental, courting-specific, whatever – that neither inhibit nor sustain the primary biological function, don’t have to be even remotely similar. You follow?”  
  
“The gift wrapping doesn’t matter as long as she gets the jewels.”  
  
“Exactly.” The Doctor grinned. His Donna was absolutely brilliant. “The penis of the human male, for example, which, when fully engorged, looks rather like the Washington Monument—“  
  
“Don’t be obnoxious, Doctor. Unless—“ Donna’s eyes went wide, and her mouth went even wider. “Oh! Does your _willy_ look more like a tinker toy than a national monument?”  
  
“Don’t be rude, Donna Noble!  And you now know  ** _very well_** that it does not resemble a tinker toy!”  
  
Behind her hand, Donna Noble was giggling and snorting and choking a little on the acrid smoke that defied the TARDIS’s damaged air purifying system. “Sorry, Martian boy; I couldn’t resist.” One of the rondelles slipped and started to swing.  “But I think now you shouldn't—“  
  
“You’re right; I shouldn’t have kept things from you. So,  _allons-y_.” He gave her a curt nod. “The basic designs of the Gallifreyan, that is to say my penis and a human penis are very similar, most likely an evolutionary coincidence but possibly the result of seeding. We Time Lords  _did_  get around.” He winked salaciously. “The differences in the superficial and secondary sexual attributes of Gallifreyan and human males are also due to our different respective environments, historical mating pressures, and differences in the designs of the females.” He put a hand up before Donna could jump in. “Later. To the naked eye, my penis appears to be covered with ridges and tiny bumps. To the, ah, naked hand, the ridges are actually rings of tiny individual nodules.”  
  
Some kind of weird looking helmety thing fell off a cable high above her; Donna sidestepped quickly. “Doctor, do you really feel—“  
  
The Doctor jumped back in shock. “Oi! No way, Earth girl!”  
  
“No, I only meant…  Oh.”   She dropped her voice about an octave. “You brought it up, Martian.”  Then she batted her eyelashes at him.  
  
“I did no such thing,“ Martian squeaked.  
  
Donna grinned. The Doctor rolled his eyes.  
  
“Please, Donna; I may never be able to do this again."  
  
Donna nodded soberly.  
  
"The total surface area of the nodules of a resting penis is relatively small. Penetration triggers the engorgement of the pliant tissue, causing expansion of the nodules' interiors and an increase in the total surface area. This, in turn increases the effective dimensions of the penis… girth and width and length. The fully erect penis of a Gallifreyan man is—“  
  
“Bigger on the inside,” Donna finished. “Figuring it’s you, it doesn’t surprise me. So, how much bigger do you get on the inside, TARDIS boy?”  
  
“Donna Noble, my expansion factor is no joking matter!” The Doctor ran his fingers through his hair and gave Donna a grin that made his dimples dance. “That’s very good, though, bigger on the inside. And wouldn’t it make a brilliant chat-up line.” He winked at her that way again. ”If you think my time and space ship is something impressive, you should check out my—“  
  
“So, maybe your brain isn’t the most impressive thing about you after all, TARDIS boy.”  
  
“Stop calling me that! And how dare you imply that my superior Time Lord brain isn’t my best…”  
  
Pursing his lips, the Doctor opened his zipper and checked himself. “Blimey! It’s the Washington Monument down there.”  
  
“What?! Let me see!”  
  
Donna rushed forward, but the Doctor batted her hands away. Cautiously… fearfully, he checked himself out again. He looked up, a picture of total misery.  
  
“My bumps and ridges? They’re not… But where? How did they…"  
  
The new Doctor’s eyes burned with black anger… well, maybe charcoal grey-- the eyes of the Mostly Oncoming Storm. "That bloody wanker kept them!” he thundered. “Oh Donna," the Doctor wailed, "that friggin  _putz_  stole my bumps and ridges!"  
  
“Doctor, get a grip! Now is really really not the time!: There’s stuff… Davros, big ugly pepper pots with plungers, stars going out, the love of your life’s gonna get killed kind of stuff!”  
  
“Ah. Yes. Bugger.”  
  
The Doctor pulled himself together and put himself together and went back to work on the Z-Neutrino biological inversion catalyzer. “I need just another minute to complete this thingy.”  
  
"Please hurry! You have to save the universe again, and we’re running out of time!”  
  
The Doctor put down the Z-Neutrino biological inversion catalyzer and looked at Donna. “Time machine, Donna Noble; I’ll land the TARDIS no more than five minutes after we left.”  
  
As the Doctor worked, Donna watched attentively. “Rose’s thingy is bigger.”  
  
“ _What?!_   Ah. The gun.”  
  
“Can’t you use that?”  
  
“Wrong thingy, Donna.”  
  
“Oh, right.” Donna could just about picture the weapon the Doctor was building if she scrunched one eye and, strangely enough, her left big toe.  
  
“So, then," she asked, trying to sound not the least bit really really interested, "his thingy is still bumpy?”  
  
“Donna Noble!”  
  
“Don’t get stroppy, spaceman! Isn’t that something for your list?”  
  
The Doctor stopped tinkering with his Z-Neutrino catalyzer thingy and stared at the human woman. He looked about to burst into tears.  
  
“So he’s got your bumps!" Donna Noble made a rude noise.  "Big friggin' deal! I got the best you of you, Time Lord. Now I know all about that big gun of yours, Hans Solo!”  
  
Donna reached out to hug the Doctor but he jumped back, using the Z-Neutrino thingy to shield his nether regions. “Oi, Donna Noble!”  
  
Donna shook her head. “Your brain, doofus.” She opened her arms and the metacrisis Time Lord rushed into them.  
  
“Oh, Donna!” The Doctor held Donna tightly, crushing her to his chest. “Maybe we could try a macrotransmission of a K-filter wavelength in a self-replicating energy blindfold matrix.” He planted a kiss on her forehead. ”What do you think?”  
  
“Hmmm,” the nascent human metacrisis DoctorDonna considered, hugging the mostly alien metacrisis Doctor just as tightly despite that thingy of his poking into her. “Works for me.”  
  
“We’ll stop Davros and find a way to return the stolen planets. Do you think Rose will be ok with my gun? She wasn’t very happy with me in van Statten's bunker.”  
  
“She’s stuck in a ship full of Daleks, she’ll love it; she’ll think it’s  _molto bene_.” Donna slapped the thingy in the Doctor's arms. “You did mean this weapon, right?" She smirked knowingly. "Or did you mean your other big gun, Randy Handy?”  
  
“Randy… Handy…” the Doctor sputtered, “Randy… oh, very good!” He got the Z-Neutrino biological inversion catalyzer ready to go then ran to the control panel. He kicked one lever and pulled another one. Then he cocked the universe’s last best hope and raced to the door.  
  
The human metacrisis DoctorDonna was right behind him.  
  
“This is it, Earth girl, time to save the Universe!”   
  
“Yep.” Donna popped her  _p._  
  
The Doctor just stopped himself from straightening a tie that wasn't there. He smoothed down his jacket and squared his shoulders. “Once I open these doors...." he mumbled, looking from the hand gripping the door handle to the arm that cradled the catalyzer with a frown.  He turned to Donna. "You haven't changed your mind, Donna Noble? Are you still totally certain about this?”  
  
“Absolutely! Aren’t you?”  
  
“I don’t have much of a choice.”  
  
“Oi! You are the Doctor, the  _one and only._  And there’s always a choice.“ Donna covered the Doctor’s hand with hers. ”Trust me spaceman; I've been with you a long time, and if there is one thing in the universe I am absolutely certain of, it's this.“ She kissed his cheek and pinched his bum. “You really  _do_ look  _so_  much hotter in blue and burgundy.”


End file.
